Valediction Calls
by EulaliaGal
Summary: Cancer!AU. When Kiku picks up the phone, he doesn't expect the goodbyes. But then again, he's never expectedto watch  his estranged brother slowly die.


Well, this is a new venture for me - a fic series, all of my own! This, the first in **The ties that bind** series, was originally going to be one long fic, but it somehow mutated into a monster almost thirteen pages in length when I hadn't even scratched the surface of what I wanted to write! So I had to cut it into much shorter chapters, unfortunately!

I would like to apologise in advance if this fic offends anyone. I understand that cancer and death can be very delicate topics; I do not attempt to even fully scratch the surface of what such a devastating event knowing a loved one is dying can be. I am not a professional doctor, so I cannot hope to fully understand the symptoms or the causes of brain cancer; events and symptoms in this fic will be subject to artistic license.

Now that's out of the way, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing it!

**THE TIES THAT BIND  
><strong>**Summary: **Tragedies are the ties that bind, and they are the ties that break. Five families, five lives, deal with the heartache.

**Title:** Valediction Calls  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Cancer!AU. When Kiku picks up the phone, he doesn't expect the goodbyes. But then again, he's never expected to watch his estranged brother slowly die.  
><strong>Characters: <strong>China, Japan, Greece  
><strong>Pairings: <strong>Rochu (future), Giripan, others

Hetalia Axis Powers © Hidekaz Himaruya

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><p><strong>VALEDICTION I: Even your darkest nights<strong>

When his phone rings, Kiku is caught off guard. He knows that tune. Empty and cheerful, it burns his heart.

_Yao._

Only Yao, foolish, gentle, Yao, would choose such an irritating, such a – a – a meaninglessly _cheerful_ song for a ringtone.

He lies there, listening. This song, it never fit their situation. It's like a terrible, godless joke that never caught on. A helping hand? Not his. For his was only the hand that struck the killing blow.

The irony of it makes Kiku want to laugh.

Except not, because the laughter always bubbles in his chest, only to be locked up in his heart. Because irony is not that funny, he knows, not to the poor, hapless victim; and besides, he has no business finding his past decisions ironic, for it is not his life. Not anymore.

He has not spoken to Yao for over five years. Oh, Yao has tried; calls and emails and texts, harrying him with all the persistence of a father with too large a heart. But they stopped, trickled away to nothing, as Kiku changed phones and changed addresses and changed himself, all to stop the past from catching up.

It is a melodramatic soliloquy he appears to be gearing up to, so he stops thinking and turns over, back to the phone. The slow exhale of breath behind him reminds him that he's not alone. It calms him, and his breathing slows. His eyelids flutter. He ignores the phone.

The phone keeps ringing, regardless of his inner struggle. What is Yao doing, anyway, calling at such a time? Late enough to be called early and early enough to be called late.

He leaves it. He has to leave it. Yao may not hate him, mothering, blundering fool that he is, but Kiku will do anything to make it that way.

"Kiku?"

Herakles looks at him with sleep-filled eyes, lashes heavy with the dew of man's dawn. He breathes slowly, and closes them again. That slow exhale, it warms him, fills him, lulls him to sleep. He knows, then that he can just do what he wants, ignore his obligations, ignore his past, ignore the phone – ignore it all and just… close his eyes–

"Pick it up."

Well, that quite settles it. Kiku can't disobey a direct order, can he? It is just the way he is.

That, he thinks as he fumbles in the dark for his phone, is a terrible excuse. Herakles knows him, body _(oh, he flushes at that; how he flushes at those memories, memories of heat and lust and sin and fire)_ and soul; he knows how much Kiku wishes to just flip open the phone and let the knocking memories come flooding in.

Kiku's never told him, but he knows nevertheless. It is just the way they are.

His grasping hand finally chances upon smooth metal, the cold shocking him enough to almost drop it, and where would that get him? He retracts his arm into the warmth beneath the covers, and flips his phone open.

"Yao."

It is a cold greeting, but he is not scolded for it. Yao long relinquished the right to do such a thing.

"Kiku?"

Yao sounds innocently, terribly hopeful; Kiku can't help but wince.

"Yes. What do you want?"

"I – I – I'm sorry for bothering you, aru, but I really need to tell you something. I – I –" Yao pauses. There are so many things he needs to tell Kiku.

Kiku knows this, and waits.

"A-Anyway, how are you? Doing well, aru? You do like your job, I hope, I'm really very proud of you aru, you know that, don't you? We haven't spoken in ages, haha, we really should meet up sometime, you know, talk about our lives, since it's been such a long time since I saw you, aru… Ah, eh, you do know I'm terribly sorry for hurting you, aru, so, so sorry, I'd really like to see you again, aru, I only got this number because Yong Soo told me, don't tell him off, I was the one who asked, aru, I kept on at him, you know, because I really needed to speak to you, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" Yao patters on, words spilling out like he hasn't the time to talk.

Kiku almost hangs up right there and then. He does not want to listen to apologies.

"Yao, if you are just here to apologise I suggest you stop it. I have no time for this; I need to sleep, I have work tomorrow."

There is a pause. He knows he's hurt Yao.

"W-Well, I'm sorry then, I'll call you tomorrow aru, I'm sorry for bothering you, I hope you're sleeping well. It's nothing important anyway aru, just, just, I do really need to talk to you, Kiku. N-Not just to apologise. It's not that."

"Good." He can feel the phone slipping out of his hand. Yao's voice is tinny, distant; just the way he likes it.

"No, no, I know you don't like to hear apologies, aru, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called. I'll tell you later, aru. So, so…"

So what?

"Yao, what is it." _What more can you want?_ He swallows the words down. It is not his business anymore, he tells himself, not anymore.

"When..."

Kiku stiffens. He knows what's coming, but that won't stop it from happening.

"When can we meet up, Kiku?"

He sighs. So all it comes down to is this.

"We can't. I'm not your baby brother anymore; I'm busy, you're busy, you have no right to ask for this." Tart, terse; every word a crack of a metaphorical whip. He can _feel_ Yao's wince on the other side of the phone.

"Kiku…"

There is a sigh in that voice, and Kiku realises with a start that Yao is slipping back to old ways. There is no way he can let that happen.

"No, Yao, you have to let go of the child of your memories. I'm not a child anymore. I'm not your brother anymore. We're not related anymore. You don't have to care."

"But…"

"No buts." Kiku realises with a start that their positions are now reversed, him speaking the words Yao said so long ago. He moves to hang up. The little red button shines tantalisingly in the darkness.

"No! Kiku, don't hang up. It's important, aru. Really important."

"Then I'm sure you can tell me some other time."

"When, Kiku? When do you ever speak to me?" There's bitterness in that voice, and Kiku thinks, _Oh no you don't_.

"Stop it. Go away. I don't need you anymore. You don't need me any more. There's no reason for me not to put down this phone and never speak to you again." But why he doesn't do just that, he will never know.

There is a silence, and Kiku slowly moves to hang up.

Then, in a small, small voice, Yao says the words that will signify the end of an era and the start of an age.

"Kiku, I – I – I… I have a tumour."

What?

"A brain tumour."

Kiku feels his brow furrow slightly. After so long, Yao can still annoy him like no other.

"Yao, if this is your idea of a joke, I don't appreciate it."

"I-It's not, aru. I would never do that, you know that. I know you don't want to talk to me, aru. But I have a – a brain tumour. I'm going to die."

There is a sniffle on the other end of the line that Kiku pretends not to hear.

"I'm going to die, Kiku, I'm _going to die_."

Kiku says the first thing that comes into his mind.

"We're all going to die."

Yao lets out a single sob. But he is not that weak.

It is quickly swallowed by the encroaching silence.

He feels the look that Herakles gives him in the dark, and sighs.

"Yao, where are you."

He does not respond. Kiku knows he's there, though, because there is a hiccupping silence on the other end of the phone.

"…Yao?"

Yao gulps, once, twice, and whispers the address into the phone.

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><p>Herakles lets him go, but Kiku knows he's unhappy. He's never met Yao, but he doesn't approve.<p>

Yao wouldn't approve of Herakles either. All he ever wanted was for Kiku to settle down. And now that he has, it's with another man.

Kiku wants to laugh at the irony.

The headlights flash, and Kiku slips into the car. He punches the postcode into the sat nav, wondering how exactly he's managed to memorise it. His eyes are half-lidded with sleep, and all he wants to do is return to Heracles' warmth.

But Yao needs him.

Kiku wants to be late, but his treacherous body pulls into fast gear.

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><p>The glittering nightscape flashes by, jumping and flatlining like a stuttering heart.<p>

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><p>As any writer should know, review is the greatest gift a reader could ever give.<p>

...

...And I am totally not grovelling for reviews. Of course not. What are you talking about?

NB: Is the summary okay? Somehow I feel like it could be so much better...


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